


The Wrong Guy

by CrumbScuddler



Category: Green Eggs and Ham (Cartoon), Green Eggs and Ham - Dr. Seuss
Genre: Awkward situations, Basically the show minus Jenkins, Criminal!Sam, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Guilt, M/M, Or Michellee, Pining, Reading glasses and your partner's hat are a passable disguise, Sharing a Bed, That Box Scene, Tight Spaces, Tiny Angst, Undercover as a Couple, Wanted!Guy, kind of, or EB, reverse!au - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:27:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21775978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrumbScuddler/pseuds/CrumbScuddler
Summary: Guy Am I is on the run for a crime he didn't commit. Down on his luck and without a bruckle to his name, isn't it just so fortunate that he runs into someone willing to protect him, even if he is a little shady? There might be something up his sleeve, but who's to say!
Relationships: Guy Am I & Sam I Am (Green Eggs and Ham), Guy Am I/Sam I Am (Green Eggs and Ham)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 93





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I only write fluff but exclusively read smut, so who knows if this is good or not? You do. That's right, drop me a comment and let me know how the heck I can write this better.

It was like most days for Samuel. He woke up in his hideout, took inventory of his contraband while watching the news, grabbed his briefcase and hat, and went out to earn some dough the old-fashioned way while also rustling up some grub at the same time.

"Afternoon, Donna!" The ring of the door alarmed the woman behind the counter, but not as much as the voice of Sam. "Love what you've done with the fur."

Her eyes went wide before she steeled herself. "Hello, Sam," she said in a fearful voice. Sam wished she wouldn't make such a big deal of things, just smile at him like she did with the other customers, but, this is what he got paid to do. Quickly she pulled out a menu, and cleared her throat, before bobbing her head in a gesture towards his seat. Sam's eyes followed, and saw what she was indicating.

Someone was in his spot.

An orange Knox sat there, burying his face into a newspaper. How unsociable! That wouldn't do, not in his diner. Sam squinted, studying him further. A briefcase that looked just like his own was seated alongside the Knox in the booth. He wore a tall brown hat that was peaking up above the newspaper. The paper moved for a second, and they made eye-contact, the orange stranger rounded wire frames suited his face nicely. His eyes widened and he threw himself back into the paper, but Sam had gotten enough of a peep to know he remembered that face. The stranger moved further back in the booth, covering the seat beside him with his briefcase. Sam knew how to play hardball.

"Well, look at this," Sam said, pulling a chair over towards the corner booth. He sat his briefcase down on top of the stranger's. "We're briefcase buddies." Sam dropped the chair in front of the stranger's exit and sat down, propping his feet up on the table. "That's like finding a matching snowflake."

"It's an unremarkable attache sold in most major stores-" the stranger grumbled.

"And we both bought it!" Sam finished. He took his feet off the table to pull himself closer to the stranger. "Plus, to end up sitting next to each other like this!"

They both knew the diner was empty. The orange fellow had let his paper drop as Sam had been talking, but he quickly hid himself again trying to end the conversation. Sam grabbed the newspaper and forced it down to the table. "I'm Sam. Sam I Am." The stranger stilled, eyes wide, realizing he was trapped in his seat with the obnoxious Who who wouldn't leave him alone. "What's your handle, partner?" Sam asked, but the other didn't answer. That was okay. He didn't need to. But, Sam was getting somewhat hungry.

"Donna, the usual." He was quiet for a moment, thinking things over in his head. "And I might need mine _extra_ green." With that, Donna walked in to the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone.

"Green?" The Knox gave a disgusted sneer, despite being boxed in.

"What? You don't like green eggs and ham?"

The other gentleman sputtered. "No, I do not like them, Sam-I-Am, I do not like green eggs and ham."

Sam sighed waving his arms at the other. "Understood. Question asked and answered. No further queries necessary." He smiled, though, leaning his head in towards the other. "Have you ever tried them before?"

The guy across the table gave an exasperated sigh. "No."

Sam looked smugly satisfied. "Well, how can you be so sure you won't like them if you've never actually eaten 'em?"

"Well, I've never eaten Walvark droppings, but I'm pretty certain I wouldn't like those either," he said, grabbing his newspaper again. "I'll just keep to my oatmush and spoon."

The door rang again, and in entered a group of people. The orange Knox bristled and grabbed his newspaper again.

All of them looked exceedingly worn out, sad, and angry, as they all muttered between themselves. "That was my life's work, you know? And now it's all up in smoke!"

"Ugh, if I see that guy, I'll rip him a new one."

"At least we qualified, even if we'll have to spend our trip rebuilding."

"That Knox is gonna get what's coming to him! He was all over the news, you know, they're hunting that jerk down."

The stranger beside Sam shuddered, while Sam beamed in delight at the opportunity that had just landed itself right into his lap. "Friends of yours?" Sam asked. The other looked at him with wide eyes, and Sam smirked in response. "I can get you out of here and help you lay low, but it's gonna cost you."

The Knox paled, looking at Sam and peeping over his paper at the others. "I don't have any money!" he said in a harsh whisper. "I spent all my bruckles on a bus that left without me!"

"I'm not looking for money," Sam said, grabbing both briefcases. He set them on the floor. "Donna!" The Knox gasped, hunching lower so the others wouldn't see him. As the waitress opened the double-doors, Sam kicked both briefcases, sliding them through. "I'll need that to go. And you've got diners out here. Hop to it."

Donna rushed over to the other diners. With them distracted, Sam grabbed the strangers hand and pulled him over to the same set of doors.

In the corner of the kitchen now, Sam signaled the other to halt. "Just who are you, amigo? And what does everyone want with you?"

The Knox was flushed. "I'm Guy. Guy Am I. And I didn't do anything! Sure, I have a reputation for blowing things up, but I didn't start the fire! I swear!"

"Blowing things up," Sam mused aloud. Well, that wasn't gonna sound good in court. "Now how did something like that happen?"

"My invention," Guy moped. "the Self-Flyer. It blew up, but that isn't what caused the fire!"

Donna stepped through the door with a take-out container, handing it to Sam. "You're a peach, Donna. Say, if the cops come by later," he locked eyes with Guy. "-and they will, neither of us were here, you got it?" Donna nodded grimly and left again.

"What was that all about?" Guy asked. Sam chuckled, opening the take-out container. It was jam-packed with bruckles.

"Let's just say it's in Donna's best interest to do as I say," Sam said, grabbing Guy's hand and leading him out the back. "And that's enough bruckles to get us to Meepville. I know a place there where we can hide."

Guy wilted as he was led out by the mysterious stranger. A feeling in his gut sank low, and Guy knew this had been a bad idea.

* * *

"A train seems like a bad idea," Guy said, the two of them sitting behind bushes at the train station. "Won't somebody notice me?"

"You're gonna get worry-wrinkles," Sam said, digging through his suitcase for the right amount of bruckles. "I think I have a plan, though." He handed Guy his red hat, handling it cautiously with both hands. "Careful with this," Sam said. "Make sure you don't lose it, okay?" Guy set his own hat inside his luggage and kept on his simple disguise of reading glasses. He set the red hat on his head.

"This isn't gonna work," Guy mumbled as he stood. "I look exactly the same."

Looking up, he saw several people from the same group that had competed at the invention convention. Guy sat back down frightened. "Sam, we have to get out of here! Sam?"

Guy looked around but saw no evidence of the person he'd just met. "Sam?" he said a little louder.

"Relax, babe, I'm right here!" Sam said affectionately, before turning to the other people at the station. "I'm only gone for a second and he already misses me! Needy."

Guy sputtered, but said nothing within earshot of the other passengers. "Babe?" he whispered when Sam was closer. Sam laughed, far more relaxed than when they were in the diner.

"It's a cover story, a thing you do while running from the law. I'm _pretending_ to be your boo. Just go along with it." Guy went to pick up their luggage, when Sam and him reached for one of the suitcases at the same time. Sam looked up, smirking, grabbing Guy's hand instead. "Getting into character! Nice."

Guy was thoroughly embarrassed, but said nothing. He was indebted to Sam, after all. Speaking of which-

"How much were tickets?" Guy asked, a note of fear in his voice.

"Why?" Sam asked, his brows furrowed. "You didn't pay for them."

"I know," Guy muttered. "But I still owe you."

"Don't worry about that," Sam laughed. "I'm not one to pull favors so soon. Let's just focus on getting to Meepville right now." Guy sighed, following Sam again quietly. Even if Sam was involved in some shady things, Guy couldn't help but be jealous. Sam had direction and purpose. Guy had none of that. His dreams had just blown up in his face. And then the building also blew up, coincidentally, which wasn't his fault. Guy was sure of it. Like 83% sure.

Sam led them to their cabin, hopping onto a seat and putting down his suitcase. Guy couldn't help but feel something had changed since they'd left that diner, he just couldn't place what. Sam's smile didn't seem as frightening for one, but Guy wasn't going to be disarmed if that's what Sam was after. "Y'know, they say the eyes are the window to the soul," Sam said as Guy sat down across him. Sam locked eyes with Guy, and Guy was a little scared of what might happen if he looked away. "Aaaaand there. I just saw your soul." Guy wasn't sure what Sam saw, but Guy knew he was becoming even more puzzled by Sam. Guy willed himself to look away.

"So what happened in that building this morning, buddy?"

Guy frowned, hugging his luggage to himself. "Things didn't go as planned. I...I invented that Self-Flyer, it blew up, so when the building blew up afterwards, everyone blamed me. And that was my last chance to hit it big. I'm nobody, now." Not how Sam would describe it, judging the way the news covered the event that morning, but he said nothing. Guy sat his briefcase down. "So, what about you?"

"Oh, me?" Sam hadn't really expected to talk about himself and wasn't sure he could come up with something quick on the draw. "Aw, there's not a lot about me. Glurfsberg, born and raised."

"What was going on in that diner?"

Sam paled. "Oh, Donna? I forged her an A+ FDA rating, so she owes me. It's part of the deal. And now I can blackmail her over it, so it's like an endless cash cow."

Guy's jaw was slack, and Sam laughed awkwardly. "Is that what you do?" Guy asked. "Blackmail people?"

Ugh. Sam was happy getting away from the criminal role. He honestly didn't like thinking about it, since it made for a really lousy social life. "Not just blackmail. Like I said, forgeries, but also petty theft, highway robbery, grand larson, small arson, scams, green hams, and selling... well, other stuff."

Guy's eyes widened. "Stuff?"

"Drugs, mostly." Sam opened his briefcase, pulled out the sack of bruckles, and flipped the briefcase around, revealing vials of different colors and textures. Even through high school at his most rebellious, Guy had only ever seen very mild items. This was insane. "See something you like?"

"NO." Guy said, turning the other way. So Sam was...what, some kind of drug lord? It was a little more than what Guy wanted to deal with at the moment. "I'm gonna go get some fresh air," Guy said, exiting the cabin car. Sam shrugged, easing in for a long ride.

The trip that day was fairly uneventful. None of the passengers seemed to recognize Guy in the red hat and reading glasses. Especially odd since every newspaper he saw passengers reading, whether it be in a quiet car or down the hall, had his face plastered on the front of it reading "Loser Inventor Definitely Guilty." At the dining car, he was joined again by Sam, who yet again ordered a plate of green eggs and ham. Guy's oat toast had been blessedly bland and normal, the only stable thing about his life. Desperately, he missed feeling his life was as monotonous as his dietary choices.

"I don't know what you're so scared of," Sam said, scarfing down an egg. "Even on a train, these eggs are fantastic."

Guy sighed, propping his menu up to hide himself from other passengers' view. "I will not eat them on a train."

Sam's eyes, which had been closed as he was enjoying the meal, opened at his partner's phrasing. "Well that's an oddly specific way to say that."

Guy grunted, slumping low behind the menu. "This favor that you want later...is it gonna be something like... like selling drugs? Or arson?"

"What?" Sam asked, slurping up yolk. Guy scoffed in disgust. "Oh, no, nothing like that." The evasion to the question made Guy even more uneasy.

"Look, Sam, I'm really not that cruel of a guy, I don't know if I can...commit crimes."

 _You already have_ , Sam thought, but continued his breakfast, chewing on a chunk of ham. He really didn't have any specific favors planned for Guy, but if the Knox was gonna keep making a deal of it, he'd have to come up with something. "If that's the case," Sam said between bites, "then I'll just have you run errands for me." At Guy's worried glance, Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. "Normal errands like mailing stuff." Guy cringed again. "Like _birthday cards_. I can't make this easier, _Guy,_ " Sam said a little louder in the crowded car, just to scare the Knox. "But if you keep making it a big deal, I can't guarantee you that we'll make it to the hideout in Meepville. It's all or nothing. You in or out?"

Guy looked around the dining cart and watched a woman open a newspaper with his face on it. He didn't have a choice. "Fine," Guy said, his voice defeated.

"That's better," Sam said, more upbeat. "I'll take care of everything," he whispered softly. "Don't worry one bit." Worrying was in Guy's nature, but the way Sam looked in that moment, completely honest, Guy believed him. He had to.


	2. Chapter 2

It was the crack of dawn when they reached one of the stations, and Guy had been fast asleep, until he was nudged awake.

"Wh-what? Sam?"

Sam kept pushing at Guy, trying to get him up. "We have to get off of here, there are cops here at the station. Woman in a beret flashing a badge."

"What?" Guy barely registered what he was doing, throwing off blankets and collecting the few items he had in his briefcase while still in his nightcap. "What do we do? I don't...I've never done this before!"

Sam put a finger to Guy's mouth, hushing him, then pulling the nightcap off of his head. "We sneak out when the coast is clear, okay? No big deal, but you've gotta focus on me and do everything I say, alright?" Guy nodded helplessly, Sam placing his red hat back on Guy's head. Sam peeped out the window, before opening it a crack. He gestured for Guy to follow. Running out the car, Sam jumped for the exit, but slid to the side when he saw a hulkish blue figure in a black hat and shades between carts. Guy wasn't so lucky, making eye-contact with the officer. Ducking down, it was already too late. The large blue cop opened the door and stepped in, pointing a net-thrower towards him.

"Guy Am I. You're under arrest."

Off to the side, Guy could see Sam flinging his arms, gesturing Guy to leave. Guy laughed nervously at the officer with his arms raised. "What I'm about to do is in no way an admission of guilt." Sam jumped from the side and pulled the large cop's hat down over his eyes, the both of them fleeing with briefcases in tow. Two cars behind them, Guy could hear the officer yelling as he gave chase.

As they ran, the train underneath them started moving. It was at full speed by the time Sam and Guy reached the back of the car, the ground below them gone and replaced with rock spires and spiraling tracks. "Sam, what do we do?" Guy asked, fearing for his life. "There's nowhere to go!"

Sam stared over the side, weighing his options. Guy gets caught, he loses his contraband, or they possibly fall to their doom. Well, if he died, it should at least be on his own terms, and he definitely wasn't about to jeopardize his contraband after all his hard work. "I think we jump."

"What?"

Both cops were visible through the window, the distance they'd gained closing quickly. "Wanna flip a coin on it?" Sam laughed. He pulled out a coin and flicked it with his thumb. Guy watched with horror in his eyes as it plummeted to the dark depths below the spires. A puff of sand followed after several seconds of falling. "See," Sam said. "There is a bottom!" The blue cop was almost at the door now, and Sam extended his arm to Guy. "What do you say, _babe_?"

Guy whined slightly before giving in, holding tightly to his fake boyfriend as they jumped. He felt the cop snag at his ear and growl as he lost his grip, but the sensation was buried as the two of them plummeted towards the ground. He couldn't keep from screaming, until he noticed he was the only one doing so. Sam was focused intensely, still holding his briefcase. At just the right moment, he threw it under himself and began sliding down the spire, letting go of Guy's hand to keep steady. Guy wasn't as fortunate, missing his briefcase completely and rolling down the spire instead. It slowed his momentum however, and he reached the bottom—in one piece, but very sore, curled in a fetal position.

"Guy."

The Knox wheezed, opening his eyes to see Sam's outstretched hand. "That was pretty brave, you know," Sam said, grabbing onto Guy's hand. The larger groaned as he stood up, Sam letting get a moment to collect himself. "You can rest for a while, if you'd like. It's a long walk out of here." Guy sighed. It was a long walk anywhere, and sitting around wouldn't make him less sore.

"No, we can keep moving. If we stay anywhere too long, the cops will get onto us." They started walking, Guy eventually losing his limp after a while.

* * *

It was late at evening after a full day's journey when they saw it in the distance.

"A hotel!" Sam cheered excitedly.

It wasn't.

After the two of them fell down the deep hole, Guy finally saw the sign for what it was. A junkyard. At the bottom of a very very deep pit. After a moment of climbing, Sam realized he couldn't climb the sides. They were trapped, with no food, in the cold, just before dark.

"Look around at all these raw materials, Guy!" Sam said excitedly. "You could invent our way out of here!"

Guy frowned in response. "I've already told you, I'm done inventing. That competition was the last straw. I'm done. Kaput. Not doing it anymore." Guy shivered.

"Well, better hunker down then," Sam sighed. "It's only gonna get colder."

Under a rusted pot, Guy found a tattered blanket that was still too thin to really help. He muttered to himself, venting and trying to keep warm. He was so cold and—

"Hungry?" Sam asked, having adapted to the cold with towels, socks, potholders, and caution tape to insulate himself.

"No," Guy answered responsively, his growling stomach revealing the lie for what it was. It had been a full day without eating, and it was starting to wear on him.

"That's a shame," Sam said as he walked away. "I just found a vending machine stocked with delicious food."

Well, that was tempting, so Guy followed. Only to be deceived again by green eggs and ham. The cup noodle green eggs and ham machine annoyed Guy with it's existence, but it did give him an idea...

"A _Sparkerator_ ," Guy explained, throwing together the mechanical hands he'd gutted from the machine, whisk, and sticks to create his said Sparkerator. "You turn this, and it'll rub these hands back and forth building friction in order to spark a fire."

Sam had a smug look on his face. "I guess that means you're back inventing again, inventor."

"I am _not_ inventing." Guy stated. "This is purely out of necessity."

"You know what they say about necessity," Sam said in a coy tone of voice.

"No. What?" Guy asked, genuinely unsure.

"Oh, I don't know. I was hoping you knew."

Guy grumbled as the machine kept failing, before throwing it on the ground in frustration. Sam looked at the discarded invention, trying to be helpful. "Maybe you need to spin it the other way.

"It doesn't matter which way you spin it," Guy grumbled, picking it up and doing just that to prove Sam wrong. "See?" And just like that, a spark flew, proving Guy wrong like always.

"It worked! Sparkerator!" Sam cheered, dancing around the fire. "This calls for a celebration!" The smaller of the pair began digging through his suitcase.

"No!" Guy shouted. "No green eggs and ham, no drugs, no to whatever you've got in there!"

Sam stared at Guy perplexed. "Of course not, buddy! I wouldn't dare! I've been saving a bottle of Fizzy Pop for just such an occasion as this." Sam dug through his luggage, throwing out a coconut Guy wondered why hadn't been eaten before, a blender that couldn't possibly fit in the briefcase, and a stuffed doll that looked an awful lot like him. Sam stared at him blankly, unsure of how to explain his hobbies, and all Guy could manage was a blank look back at him. Sam lowered the doll slowly, giving it a quick kiss before packing it away. "That is totally not you," Sam settled on, not bothering with a proper excuse. Guy huffed, explaining it away in his head as just another odd part of Sam. He still wondered when Sam had the time to make dolls, though. Finally, Sam found it, pulling out a bottle of Fizzy Pop and two thin glasses. "Hand-fizzed by master fizzers for 17 years," he said in a delicate tone, before shaking it wildly. "Gotta give it a good shake first!"

Suddenly, it dawned on Guy that this was a bad idea.

"No, Sam, stop that-"

"Really gets the fizz going!"

"Don't do that. Put it down, Sam. Just put it down. Sam-"

"Shaaaake it up!"

"Put it down."

"There we go! Whoo-hoo!"

"Do not open that bottle! It'll spray everywhere and douse the fire!"

"It won't."

" _Sam_. Sam!"

Sam popped the cork off, only the sound of air releasing indicating that it had been opened. Guy had shielded himself, but went back to his grumbling.

"See?" Sam said, filling the glasses. "Told you." Sam raised his glass in a toast, handing one glass to Guy. "To the man I'm proud to call me his best friend!" Guy squinted. That had definitely never happened. Guy had certainly, definitely, never said that about Sam. They were only together due to necessity after all.

"What happened to ' _babe_?'" Guy muttered, half-jokingly to himself. He wasn't sure Sam heard him as their glasses tinked together. Sam took a long draught of the Fizzy Pop, not noticing the descending cork until it had already hit the bottle. It fell over, and like Guy had predicted, doused the fire.

"Okay," Sam said, not visible in the dark. "I feel slightly responsible for that. How about I make it up to you with a bite of these green eggs and ham?"

"No, thank you." Guy whispered, defeated.

"Are you sure? They're really good in the dark. The lack of sight truly heightens your other senses."

As Sam chewed and slurped, Guy wished his life had turned out differently. "I would not like them in the dark."

Trying to start his invention again proved futile, the invention blowing up in his face. Maybe it was to their benefit, but it only sunk what little hope Guy had even further down the drain. Sam gasped excitedly at what the invention had illuminated. "Look! Your invention is pointerating the way out." A pipe with a wheel-crank door lit up from Guy's accidental fire. "This pipe could be our path to freedom!" Just as Guy felt a smidgen of hope, it was dashed. Sam and Guy ran as their "path to freedom" unloaded pink toxic ooze by the barrel, melting everything in its path.

The two raced up to higher ground, a feeling of dread slipping over them both. With no way out, they were done for, and Guy accepted it. Guy sighed and sat, waiting for the worst. It wasn't as if he had anything else to lose, so he watched everything surrounding their pile melt and smolder into nothing in the pink sludge.

"You can still invent us out of this jam!" Sam piped up. Guy was envious of that blind hope and faith. It was a wonder Sam could keep it together as already-thrown-away junk creaked and whined as it sunk to its melting demise. Guy could relate.

"Inventing doesn't work that way."

"Pfft. What do you know about inventing?"

Guy flattened Sam with a glare. "Everything. Let me tell you a little story."

Sam gasped, finding himself a seat on the hill of rubble. "Is this your secret origin story?"

"No," Guy dismissed. "It's just a story. About a guy named, uh.... _Ghee_."

Sam shot him a grin and leaned closer to listen. "Hooked me from the first sentence."

Guy sighed, but began. "A bright-eyed inventor with tons of promise. "Ghee" thought of the Face Iron. He invented Foggles. Plus, an Out of Order Recorder with 17 Toggles. The Hand Stand seemed like a total slam dunk. The Can Opener was sure to end his funk. Success seemed at hand, fortunes surely bestowed. But you can't make it big when all your gizmos explode."

"You know," Sam interrupted, directing a knowing look towards Guy, "This Ghee sounds _really_ interesting. Reminds me of _ye_." Guy paused a moment, wondering if Sam meant to look _that_ flirtatious.

"May I please finish?" Guy mumbled, pulling away from the thought.

"Yeah! Quit stalling."

"With each failure, Ghee lost a little more hope. So at the thought of another..." Guy frowned, slouching. "His heart told him nope."

Well, that was a good story. He certainly hadn't seen that coming. Sam clapped, hollering as he stood. "Oh! What a story! Only an inventor with an amazing imagination could spin such an inventive yarn right off the top of his noggin. I _knew_ you were talented." Guy's demeanor was unchanged by the praise.

"It's me," Guy sighed. "I'm Ghee."

Sam pshaw-ed. "Yeah, right. I mean, at first I though it was about you, but then that twist at the end?"

Guy couldn't believe it, feeling somewhat insulted. "I just told you it was me."

"Pfft. Sure it was."

"Never mind," Guy said standing, looking for some secluded place on the mound to be alone.

"Oh, well," he heard behind him. "I'm sorry you had to go through that... Ghee."

"Yeah, well, everybody's got a story."

Sam frowned, knowing Guy wouldn't see him. That was true of him too, not that anyone cared. He had a mom to find, and to get out of this mess, he had an indentured bud to inspire with his story. Well, maybe not the full truth of it. "As long as we're origin story-ing," Sam interjected, "mine is a real humdoozler. It starts a long time ago. When Mom I Am gave birth to me, I was—"

"I don't want to hear it!" Guy yelled, shooing Sam away from him. "I only have a few minutes before I-" The mound screeched underneath them, shifting as it was melted by toxic pink sludgey ooze.

"I'm too young to die!" Sam shouted, scrambling around their pile of garbage in despair.

Guy watched their doom over the edge and panicked. He really was going to die, starving, cold, in a garbage heap, and without the decency of at least having died alone. "That's it! We're done for. We've lived our last day."

"Don't be dramatic," Sam chuckled, as if he hadn't yelled about his own death a moment earlier. "Look!" he yelled, revealing a scrapped one-bruckle ride. Sam squealed with delight hopping on. "Yee-haw! Guy! How great is this? I think we just found our lifeline. A ride out of this pit!"

"Sam, that horse doesn't move," Guy deadpanned.

"She may not move yet, but that's what a master inventor is for."

"I'm no master," Guy rebutted. "And even if I was, it is not possible."

"Uh-oh, sounds like someone's got a case of the nots."

"I do _not_ ," Guy huffed.

"well, I'm _not_ interested in being swallowed up by toxic ooze, so I'm gonna get to work."

Guy watched blankly as Sam messed around with a wrench and mallet, crawling down to mess with the undercarriage of the ride. He was obviously ill-experienced, what with that weak support crumbling next to him— _Oh no_.

The cheap horse crunched down, Sam gasping with realization that Guy had pulled him to safety.

"Step aside," Guy said, grabbing the wrench from Sam, "and let a master do it."

Sam watched in satisfaction as Guy worked to build it in time. He added levers and springs and doohickeys and worked with an obvious vision of the end result. Sam could do little more than watch in awe. "I need a bruckle to get it to start."

No problem. It was a good thing Sam had packed for this trip. The machine started up and jumped high into the air just as the ooze crested over the high ground, the horse landing up at the top of the pit. Sam cheered excitedly at having not died, still impressed with the machine he sat on. "Yes! The Ghee is definitely back. See? All you needed was a little bit of hope. Luckily, you had a hope man in your corner!"

Guy couldn't bury the shy smile that blossomed from that statement. It had been a long time since he'd felt successful, and Sam had been a lot of help, a fool of a criminal or not.


	3. Chapter 3

Feeding it bruckles every couple of minutes, the horse took them all the way to a diner in Prinz Pazookle. They parked it outside the diner, and entered. The door swung closed and a resounding "boom" from outside spooked the inventor. His machine had just blown up. He glanced down at Sam, hoping he was the only one to have heard it. Sam returned a knowing look, peeping back towards the door. With a shrug, he grabbed Guy's hand and walked up to the bar, not speaking about what had just transpired and began making conversation like nothing happened.

"Nice place you got here!" Sam said cheerfully to the man behind the register. "How are your green eggs and ham here? Never mind, surprise me. I'm sure they're amazing!" Sam spun in his chair, stopping where he could face Guy. "How about you, boo? Wanna join me on the flavor train?"

Guy rolled his eyes at the excessive theatrics and grabbed a menu, looking for something simple and bland, like his soul. "Oatmush," he decided. "Dry." Sam tsked under his breath but let it slide, his fingers drumming on the counter as he surveyed the room. Across the room, a green-furred chap in overalls flipped through a newspaper, Guy's face plastered on the front. The picture didn't really do him justice, and wasn't very high quality, but it was pretty worrying. However, it was not as worrying as the headline. "Criminal Eludes Cops With Help." That was bad. Really bad. Now that he was implicated, photo or not, he'd have to get to Meepville before his plans were foiled.

"Something wrong?" Guy asked, bringing Sam back to the present. Sam glanced at Guy and the server behind the counter. His eyes were narrowed, and Sam wasn't sure if they were in concern or recognition.

Sam laughed, patting Guy's hand with his own. "I'm fine, babe, you worry too much." Out of the corner of his eye, Sam could see the server _still_ staring. Were they not selling this well enough? Sam could fix that. He jumped up in his chair and threw his arms around Guy, laying a peck right on his cheek. Guy, to his credit, didn't push Sam off or fall out of his chair, but he was bright red under the attention he was receiving, stuttering an 'ok.' The server looked away and moved on to taking orders from different diners. "I'm just tired is all," Sam said, in case they were still within earshot. Sam then beckoned Guy close with a hushed whisper in his ear. "And if I'm seeing things right, you made the front page again."

As Sam sat back down, Guy sighed, rubbing at his face angrily. They'd have to get out quick. He just needed to make it to Meepville and then... maybe... things might turn out alright.

After a satisfying breakfast of green eggs and ham and a sadder but passable breakfast of oatmush, Sam laid out their options as the two of them walked down the street.

"Not a lot of modes of transport in Prinz Pazookle that will get us where we want today, unless..." Sam glanced at the carnival across the road, the grocery store beside them, and the post office-

Oh!

"I've got an idea."

* * *

"We're about to send a truck out to the next town-"

"Perfect, I'm gonna need a box, largest you've got," Sam said with a smile, handing the man ten bruckles.

The man scratched at his head with a pencil. "I'm not sure we have any too large, let me go check."

The man was gone for a second and back as soon as it was over, tossing over a decently sized box. It looked like it would fit them both, albeit snugly. Guy didn't look so sure.

"Just to the next town," Sam assured him. Guy frowned, but got in, grumbling as the postman dumped packing peanuts over top of them and sealed the box.

It wasn't as cramped as Guy had thought, however, Sam was squished in closer to him than he would have liked.

"I've got leftovers if you get hungry," Sam said, munching on chunks of ham, unbothered. Guy couldn't push them too far away, but he could at least move the chunks away from directly in front of his face.

"No, I will not eat them in a box." Guy crossed his arms and turned his head, face smashed up against the side of the box. Sam shrugged, stuffing the rest in his mouth.

That's when they hit a corner, hard. The box rocked, and suddenly they weren't vertical anymore. The drop hadn't been too rough, but when Guy opened his eyes, he was nose to nose with Sam, the smaller underneath him. Trying to prop himself up and push away, his hands sunk in packing peanuts, and he fell further forwards, their lips brushing for just a moment. Somehow, Sam didn't bother looking embarrassed, smiling at the hilarity of it all. Guy couldn't. Somehow, this was his fault and he was in the wrong, and with their faces so close, there was only one thing to do.

Well, there were other options, but Guy wouldn't give them the time of day. He shifted his head to the side and planted it in a pile of peanuts, waiting for the ride to be over.

"Are you _snuzzling_ me?" Sam said excitedly, and Guy couldn't say no with his face smooshed in a pile of packing peanuts before arms were thrown around him. He had to move away from Sam, or else things would become more awkward, but there was nowhere to budge. Maybe there was a solution. Guy shifted his weight to one side, and the box turned over on it's side. Then Guy realized this had been a bad idea too. He couldn't hide his face now, Sam was laying with him only an inch away, their bodies far too close. Blushing furiously again, Guy moved his hands up to hide his face, remembering what had happened in the diner. That had been so awful, Guy thought, feeling sick to his stomach. He hadn't seen it coming, and then he got excited, just to remember why it was happening. Nobody was interested in Guy, he was a boring, dreary, grumpy Knox. He'd just have to wait it out. Just a couple more minutes and the embarrassment would all be over. Sam, sitting across from him, relished in the softness of Guy's fur. He didn't get hugs like that, not in his line of work. He couldn't help but hope it lasted longer. It was the wrong way to feel, all things considered, but Sam decided he would take what he could get. "Hey, don't feel bad, bud. This sort of stuff always happens while running from the law."

Guy groaned at that. "What am I even gonna do when I get out of this mess? It'll take 'em forever to figure out what really happened."

"Hey," Sam said softly, laying an arm on Guy's shoulder. "It'll be okay, you've just gotta sit tight till Meepville. I've got a spot for you there, I'll help you figure this stuff out, promise." Guy ducked his head as much as possible, burrowing into his lighter tuft.

"You do this for everybody running from the law?" Guy mumbled.

"Just the ones I like!" Sam said cheerfully, lying through his teeth. But, traveling with Guy hadn't been... awful. Sam wasn't expecting it to have liked it himself so much. And if it made things less awkward between them... "It's been a long time since I've had anyone to talk to. I know you don't really have a lot of choice in it, but..." Sam trailed off, eyes distant. "Sometimes, even when I'm myself, I don't think people want to be around me." His frown curled back into a small smile. "And maybe you don't want to be near me, but I'm glad you're here."

Guy looked up at the admission, touched. These were bad circumstances, but... Guy supposed they still had each other. He was about tell Sam the feeling was mutual when the box shifted around them. In a swirl of packing peanuts and clattering of suitcases, they fell again, Sam landing on top of Guy this time, faces brushing against each other. Guy's eyes were wide, mirroring Sam. Sam chuckled, punching at the seem of the box and jumping out.

"See?" he said, flicking off packing peanuts. "That wasn't so bad!" Guy stood upright and his back cracked loudly, the Knox exhaling a soft 'oof.' "This is a cute town," Sam mused. "I feel like I could just settle down here. I'm sure there are a couple people around here looking for some trouble. I could make a living!" Sam rifled through his briefcase, ensuring everything was still in one piece after the rough landing. It was light outside, probably mid-day, and a very dangerous spot to be. Guy spotted a cop across the street and lunged for cover, but Sam wasn't as lucky.

"Sam, watch out!" Guy tried to warn him, but it was too late. The cop was on Sam like a flea and cuffed him quick.

"That's illegal contraband in your possession!" the officer exclaimed, looking at the open case of assorted narcotics, pain killers, and psychedelics.

"Guy, scram!"

Well, great. Things were a mess now, and getting caught was really gonna mess up his plans. Guy was gone, all his contraband and cash would be seized, everyone would know Sam was working with him, and at this point he wouldn't be able to reach Meepville in time for his meeting. His career was over, his life's work ruined!

"Guy?" the cop questioned. Sam grit his teeth. Yeah, probably hadn't been smart to say that. He was cuffed to a stop sign as the cop made a run for Guy, who definitely wasn't going to be able to outrun the cop and couldn't distract him long enough for Sam to pick the cuffs. So they were both caught. There was a small solace in that, but Sam's career was still over. Unless they could make their escape.

 _Well_ , thought Sam as he was beckoned towards the back of the cop car, _maybe it wasn't all over_. His confidence wasn't infectious, however, Guy hyperventilating on their way to the jail tower in the center of town. "Hey," Sam said softly, trying to break his partner's panic. "I'm sure they'll realize they've got the wrong guys," Sam said pointedly so the officer could hear. "They'll figure out who that briefcase really belongs to. And then we'll be back on our vacation, all right? Don't stress it, babe."

The officer peeped back in the rear-view mirror having heard his words, a look of sympathy on his face. Out of his line of sight, Sam winked at Guy. Now he had the groundwork of a plan.

* * *

Processing had taken no time at all for Guy, and thankfully the cop seemed unaware of his buddy's larger crimes he was running from, instead being detained for the same crime of possession as Sam. The same couldn't be said for Sam, who'd burnt off any forensically distinguishable characteristic years before. His prints turned up nothing. The officer looked between the prints and Sam, confused and suspicious. Sam shrugged. "Probably the callouses. I'm a rock climber. My boo and I were gonna check out the range nearby after we were done here, before we ran into some North Shvizelton rifraf. Can you believe it? Mugged in broad daylight! Lucky for me my boyfriend fought him off. Left his briefcase in the kerfuffle, though."

Guy's eyes widened at the explanation and how smoothly the lie came out. The officer ate it up.

"Oh, sorry!" the cop said, a disappointed look on his face. "I'd hate for this to ruin your impression of South Shvizelton, we're lovely people, really! We won't hold you for long, just until we can identify who you are. What did you say your name was?"

Sam panicked, reeling through his list of aliases for one he hadn't connected with a bad reputation. It had been only a moment, but Sam worried it had been too long when he finally settled on an answer. "It's Sham. Sham Shamford."

That seemed to appease the officer, who took their cases as evidence and closed the book with a smile. "I'm sure you'll only be here for a moment, so don't worry! We'll just set you in holding for now and let you enjoy a complimentary meal on us!"

When they were escorted to the cell, which was blessedly empty, Sam turned towards the cop with a smile. "I just wanted to say I am so thankful for your help with this." Sam offered his hand through the bar to shake. The officer, kind and inept, shook it.

"Just doing my job! But it sounds like your partner is the _real_ hero," he said before wandering off. Sam smiled until he was out of sight.

"We don't have long," Sam said, turning towards Guy who was already seated on the bench. "Running me through the system put a kink in things, but that'll give me a couple hours to work with. _You_ don't have that luxury."

Guy slouched, already expecting the worst. "So what do we do?"

"Get some rest, lunch will be by shortly." Sam held out a fist and unfurled it, revealing the key to the cell he'd picked off the cop. "After lunch, we grab our gear and make a break for it."


	4. Chapter 4

Guy had tried to stay awake initially, but as soon as Sam had said to get some shut-eye, the exhaustion of their trip seemed to catch up with him. He couldn't fight to keep his eyes open and nodded off on the bench. It couldn't have been at a better time, as Sam peered out of the bars of temporary holding towards the short-staffed office, only one individual not out on patrol. A blue mouse, sipping at coffee and leering at Sam. The mouse huffed, looking away.

"Awe, Squeaky, is that any way to treat a friend?"

The mouse rolled his eyes, but came closer as he squeaked expletives under his breath. 

"Help a buddy out?" Sam said, resting his head on his hand. Squeaky grit his teeth.

"I'm not your buddy," the mouse spat. "Neither here or otherwise." Sam chuckled.

"Are you gonna help or not? I'm pretty sure you still owe me for not ratting you out." Squeaky let out a growl, which might have been threatening were he a foot taller or had any power in this exchange. Sam narrowed his eyes. "Is that not enough motivation for you? What would your wife think, knowing she's with a meat eater?"

"Don't talk about my wife," Squeaky said. "This is why we aren't friends, Sam. All you ever do is use people. I wish you _would _rot in prison, scum."__

__"I don't feel sympathy for dirty cops," Sam shot back in defense. "But I gotta say, you make my life a lot easier. How about I not slip to the cops that some of their evidence is missing and you say we came up clear before you let us go. I'll even throw in a couple bruckles for the misses, huh?"_ _

__Squeaky threw his mug on the ground at the mention of his dealings and family, small pieces of glass shattering in high pitch. "Keep your dirty money. I do this for you, and you never speak to me again, my wife never crosses your mind again, you _never _speak of her again."___ _

____"Sure thing, pal," Sam hummed in agreement._ _ _ _

____"One problem though, McWinkle and Gluntz left a message for me. They're headed here, and I imagine it will be through the front door."_ _ _ _

____"It's not a problem," Sam said, although it was with a huff. "I've already got an exit plan for us."_ _ _ _

____Squeaky glanced around Sam at the sleeping form of Guy. "Contraband was not enough for you? This is how you treat all of your 'friends?' You drag them to your level and use them for favors!"_ _ _ _

____"He's not my friend, I'm not... _using _him." Sam said defensively, and Squeaky laughed.___ _ _ _

______"For someone with no friends, you always seemed very determined to prove otherwise," Squeaky jabbed. "What makes this one different?" For once, Sam was silent, his hands gripping at the bars and a large scowl on his face. Perhaps he'd been kinder with Guy than most, but they were in this for the long haul and it had been necessary to get him on his side._ _ _ _ _ _

______"We have a deal," Sam said flatly, finished with the conversation. Squeaky rolled his eyes._ _ _ _ _ _

______"As if I were as corrupt as you. Allez faire cuire un œuf, vous poulet."_ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______Their escape had been made just at the right time, but as Guy looked down at the jump, he was sorely aware of how much they had miscalculated the distance between window and pipe. "We're at the end of our rope," Sam yelled up towards him, tieing the last of bedsheets to their makeshift rope. Guy clung on fearfully, his sweat wetting the sheets more than the rain starting to sprinkle down. "However!" Sam added, "We're just a short hop to that pipe. Very jumpable." It was for Sam at least, and even then it was a little uncomfortable of a distance. Sam steeled himself. He had survived worse with only a broken bone to show for it, so what was one more? He'd just have to make sure the briefcase didn't land too roughly._ _ _ _ _ _

______"That's insane!" Guy shouted, far less confident. "You are the world's worst judge of jumpability."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Sam smiled up towards him in a way he thought was encouraging. Guy _had _to follow him. "We can make it. Just let go!" Guy breathed in and out heavily, on the verge of hyperventilating.___ _ _ _ _ _

________"No, Sam, I can't, it's too far-"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"One... two... three!" Sam released, horror dawning on his face as he fell alone. "Why aren't you jumping?" Sam yelled as he fell, his much-needed travel partner stuck above him. Guy scrambled to get better hold of the rope, fearing for both of their lives since Sam couldn't be bothered. Guy couldn't only watch as Sam plummeted downwards towards what was surely a fatal injury at the least._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Sam!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Sam certainly hadn't stuck the landing, belly-flopping on to the pipe and almost losing hold of his briefcase, but after a second of exhaled pain gave an encouraging thumbs-up. "See?" he said, somewhat sore. "Totally jumpable." Peeling himself off the pipe, Sam looked upwards for Guy. "Guy! Guy, we're home free! Come on, buddy! Jump!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The rope above swayed back and forth, and Guy was scared stiff. "It's no use. Save yourself before they put you away forever."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Sam knew full well he couldn't leave without Guy and he wasn't about to try to after making it so far into their trip. Well, encouragement was the name of the game, and Sam was pretty good at that. "I don't care!" Sam yelled. "I'd go back to jail for ten forevers before I'd leave my best friend behind."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Guy looked moved, but still fearful. "Go, Sam, while you still have a chance. They're gonna catch me."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Not if I catch you first!" Sam said, and he meant it. Guy could hardly breath, and Sam wasn't sure if the Knox had let go or passed out, but Guy was falling, until suddenly he wasn't._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Guy tensed at the sudden stop, until he realized just why he'd stopped moving. Sam had caught him in some physically impossible way with muscles that were far too strong for their small size. Catching his breath, Guy dared to open his eyes, realizing he was okay. Sam had caught him, he'd actually made that huge jump and hadn't fallen off or broken anything. His words tumbled out, stupefied. "I can't believe it! We did it!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"You did it," Sam corrected, and Guy felt a heavy weight lift off of his shoulders. He hadn't thought that escape was possible, that he would be caught for sure. Sam had _believed _in him. It had been a long time since anyone had...___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Sam, I just wanted to say-" Guy yelped as the pipe broke beneath him and he plummeted into the gunk below, swept away by the current of...oat mush. Sam watched as Guy was ripped along in the stream and looked down at the ground surrounding the prison tower. Running up to the base was the same officer in a beret from the train. Sam scowled before jumping into the pipe as well._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________It was raining when they reached the end of the pipe system, and Sam danced about in the rain as it cleaned them of the offending oat-flavored goo. "That sweet, cleansing rain!" Sam yelled, excited to have a movie moment at the end of another successful breakout._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"It's wet," Guy said, ever the pessimist. "We need to find a place to stay."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________It was ages of walking in the downpour, Guy trudging and muttering to himself about how jail was at the very least dry. Sam laughed at that, because Guy seemed so excited about the inevitable despite supposedly not wanting it. "I know there's a bus station nearby, just across the range," Sam mused, peeping mountains off in the distance. The rain was lighter here, and further away in the sky the transition to flurries of snow could be seen. "We're just gonna have to be quick so we don't catch hypothermia."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Guy shivered, already soaking wet, but they didn't have a lot of alternatives. They were on the run and couldn't afford any stops too close to where they'd come from. He shook the rain from his fur and kept walking._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Guy felt frozen as they made their way to a ski lift, sure he would freeze to death. He could already feel his fur frosting at the tips as they entered the small shelter. He trembled at the biting feeling of ice surrounding him, curling into a tight ball on the seat of the lift, but Sam appeared to be doing even worse. His long frill of fur around his torso seemed frozen in one sheet and he shuddered as he sat. "Hey," Guy piped up, getting his attention. "Keep your arms moving so you don't freeze." Guy grabbed Sam's hands and rubbed them together between his own. "Like this, okay?" They refused to look each other in the eye, too focused on the warmth of the other in the surrounding cold. The lift began to climb, as the interior slowly started to warm._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"Guy, look!" Sam shouted, as they crested the peak. The bus station was visible now, a warm row of lights on the horizon. As the lift finally stopped, Sam raced to the station, Guy following stiffly behind him. His fur crunched with every movement, still not yet thawed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________By the time Guy made it, relaxing in the warmth, Sam was slurping a smoothie. He began waving tickets towards Guy's face as the quick shop attendant looked to be making pleasant conversation. "Aw, there he is now. Hey, babe! Got the tickets! Next stop, Stovepipe Junction!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Guy stopped in his tracks, frozen in fear and surprise. "Stovepipe? No! Sam, there's gotta be a better route!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"Too late," Sam shrugged, waving the tickets under Guy's nose. "Already bought the tickets." Guy clammed up, holding his briefcase tightly to himself. This was bad._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"Why are we stopping here?" Guy whined as Stovepipe came into view. "We could hop down to Meepville, you know."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"Ferry doesn't leave till tomorrow," Sam answered. "Come on, the Junction is great this time of year! Fludzner's Guide says so! Fantastic for couples or two best buds on the run," Sam added with an elbow nudge. Guy wasn't sure if Sam was talking about their "pretend relationship" by saying couples, but it didn't really matter. Stovepipe was a good idea. "A lot of antique shops and friendly folk, we should promenade main street!" And if Sam was able to pick out a couple more buyers for his load, what was the problem in that?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"There's a hotel right near the bus station," Guy said, somewhat pushy. "So there's no need to venture into town where we might be seen."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"Gotcha," Sam said with a point and a wink. "Seen by whom?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Guy gestured between the two of them. "We're fugitives. I'm worried about anyone seeing us... And downtown, you know, it's super busy on Bangsday." Guy crossed his arms, decidedly finished talking. Sam hummed in amusement._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"For a guy who doesn't know a lot about Stovepipe Junction, you sure know a lot about Stovepipe Junction."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Guy stared out the window and didn't answer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________The people in Stovepipe seemed friendly, but every wave and hello, and "Guy?" was dismissed by the Knox's grunt or shooing wave. Guy pulled the brim of his hat low over his head as they made their way into the hotel. "Two rooms for the night," Guy said as he signaled the receptionist with a gesture. The purple-haired receptionist smiled._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"Sure thing!" he spoke brightly, giving his room log a check. "Uh-oh, sorry, but I've only got one room left. You'll have to share."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"Perfect! Sam perked up, grabbing Guy's hand. "Wouldn't want anything else for me and my boo." Guy gave a grumble, but left it at that, and Sam left a hefty chunk of change on the desk. Guy balked at the amount Sam was willing to put down for the room._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________""Wait," Guy haulted. "I'm a Quintuple Stainless Member. Two million points oughtta get us that room, right?" Anything so that he wasn't more indebted to the felon holding his hand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"Absolutely, sir!" the receptionist cheered, checking the log and sliding a key towards Sam. "I've got just the set-up for you, Mr... Am-I? Guy-Am-I?" Guy's face froze in surprise and half-recognition. The receptionist continued, as if he could jog Guy's memory with more talking. "It's me! Chad Bernacke! Stovepipe High!" Sam's face lit up, intrigued by this information as the receptionist prattled on about the "Meloners." Sam was absolutely slack-jaw looking between the two of them, Chad enthusiastic and Guy decidedly not._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Guy tugged Sam by the hand, turning to flee. "Sorry pal, you've got the wrong Guy."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"Guess that makes sense," the receptionist mumbled loud enough for Sam to hear. The smaller of the fake couple turned, watching Chad Bernacke flip through a yearbook. "I mean, the Guy I knew was completely different." Sam dug in his heels, dragging Guy back to look at the yearbook. Sam grabbed it excitedly. "Guy! This is you! You're from Stovepipe!" Oh, this was exciting. There was a lot of information to collect on Guy in his hometown._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Guy grumbled. Sam set the book down, reading the offered room key from Chad for their number as Guy continued to grouch. "Sort of," Guy sighed. "Maybe."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"I knew it was you!" Chad shouted as Guy turned to run from the conversation. Chad took in the grump in front of him and frowned. "Man, time has not been kind. Those are some serious scowl lines. How did you land such a nice guy?" Sam chuckled at the compliment as Guy dragged him away from the desk._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"How long has it been since you've been back?" Sam said with hushed excitement, before bubbling over. "Is your family still here?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"No, nu-uh." That had been too loud, and Chad had heard the obvious lie._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"That's weird," Chad said, refusing to leave them alone, "because I saw your dad the other day at the supermarket. He was with your mother, and your brothers, nephews, nieces, grand-uncle Guyverson, grand-ant Guyvereen--"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"Thank you, Chad." Guy said curtly. "You've been a tremendous help. We'll be off to our rooms now."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________On their way up the stairs, Sam danced with glee. "You never told me about your family, you should have said something! We could have stayed with them!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"No, of course not. I'm a wanted criminal because of you, my house is the first place they'd check!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"You were a wanted criminal before we met, Guy," Sam reminded his partner. Sam fiddled with the door lock and they were in, the both of them greeted by a candle-lit room with a heart-shaped bed and a petal-covered floor. Guy rolled his eyes and Sam snorted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"Oh, that kind of room," Sam said amusedly, jumping for the bed. Guy sighed, extremely worn out, just wanting to get some sleep. He curled up on the far edge, when Sam opened the curtains. "Think you can see your house from here?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Guy lifted his head off the pillow and sat upright. It wouldn't hurt to check, and at least this way, he wouldn't have to face his parents. Out just a few blocks, he could see it, a large home, a single cop car parked in front of it. That was bad. "They're going to be so disappointed," he moped, and Sam gave his bud a reassuring smile._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"They're your family, I'm sure they miss you! You're amazing, Guy! They couldn't be disappointed."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Guy sighed, not so sure of it. Certainly not if the cops had gotten to them first. "Can we just go to bed? I'm pretty tired." Guy looked haggard, starving and sleep-deprived from the past few days. Sam obliged, blowing out candles and curling into bed as far from Guy as possible._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Sam awoke early in the morning, an ache in his gut waking him up. Guy had him in a tight grip and was snoring lightly, but that couldn't have been it. It was warm, soft, and musky curled up here, but there was no time for snuzzling and pleasantries. Sam wiggled out of his friends grasp, who grumbled slightly in his absence. Something was wrong he knew it. He crept up to the door, peering through the peephole. There was nobody there, no shadows near the door. Cautiously, he cracked the door open and peered out towards the help desk. There, one floor below over the banister, was McWinkle. Though his back was facing Sam, he imagined a blue scowl on the cop's face. Sam grabbed a chair and propped it under the door handle, barring anyone's entrance._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"Guy, we've gotta move," Sam hissed, nudging his bud. Guy was dead asleep, arms grabbing Sam and pulling him close for another snuzzle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"Guy. Guy!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________He finally woke, eyes snapping open, and then seeing his predicament. "Maybe we can snuzzle some other time, but we gotta go, now." Guy grumbled in embarrassment, but sat up and grabbed the suitcases._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"What's going on?" Guy mumbled, still half-asleep._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"It's those cops," Sam said, slipping into a black spandex suit to blend in with the darkness._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"Again?" Guy rubbed at his eyes. Waking up in the middle of the night just to move again was becoming tedious._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"We can't risk getting spotted. The patrol car's cleared out from your house. We make it out, and we don't get followed."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Guy bristled, but sighed. "Fine."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Sam led Guy down a fire escape, and they began their flee towards Guy's house._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait, what? Sharing a room AND the pinwheel scene? Yes! I'm having my cake and eating it too!


End file.
